


Killing Monsters in the Rain

by snoozingkitten



Category: The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozingkitten/pseuds/snoozingkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is a werewolf in name only, he’s also a genius and a playboy and the Lord of the house of Stark. When he’s forcibly reminded of his heritage by a crash landing in the East River Forest things go a bit differently than he’d expect. Fantasy AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killing Monsters in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the original summary was 'Tony's Big Gay Werewolf Adventure' which is just as good right? Most components of the world came from the game Dragon Age. A huge thanks to LETHES_OBLIVION and SKIPPINGTICKETS @LJ for the beta!
> 
>  
> 
> [Look at the pretty art!](http://angel-inoshi.livejournal.com/34494.html)
> 
> Part of the Avengers 2012 Reverse Big Bang

The city of Manhattan gleamed like a jewel in the Kingdom of York, rising out of the thick forests that surrounded it like a testament against the gods of nature and land. Originally built in the shadow of a mountain, the arms curled down and around it embracing the city in her arms and protecting her from two sides where the towers stood silent sentry along the ridges. 

There was a solitary gap in the towers; one had fallen in the last war, ripped apart completely by the spirit of a great dragon as it rose out of the earth great and terrible in turn. The place where it stood always a subtle reminder of why chaos wasn’t allowed to reign. 

Tony was both hated and loved by the city. Children loved him, gathered around to watch as he made dreams come to life with engineering. It was a small thing to make a little metal man who could be wound up to dance on command. Made himself plenty of them when he was child until he’d perfected the art of making friends. At the same time he made the right and proper nervous because he didn’t try to hide what he was, every smile and movement screaming that they should take note, be watchful, there was a wolf among the sheep. 

“You promised me something Stark.” Fury drawled, sweeping into the foyer of the Stark mansion like he had all the right to it. Tony was lounging on some pillows flicking through massive sheets of paper the tips of his fingers stained with ink. He hadn’t slept in a few days, didn’t need too the moon was growing full and he could feel her beginning to fill him with that manic energy, the tides of the earth were tilting and taking him with them. “When a man promises me something, he delivers.” 

“And you’re on my list of things to do.” Tony looked up from under his eyelashes. “Just not at the top. You’re going to have to wait your turn Lord Fury.” Tony knew the line, was well aware of the line, just how to roll someone’s name off his tongue so it was both placating and sarcastic. Knew how to live like he didn’t care just how precarious his position was. 

“Not what I wanted to hear.” Fury said, “try again.” 

“How about I’m worth the wait?” Tony demurred, and Fury just raised an eyebrow at him, and yeah Tony didn’t think that Fury was going to buy it but he wasn’t about to jump to attention either he would leave that to the soldiers and sycophants. 

“Do we need to go over all the usual threats? I’ve got better shit to do with my day Stark.” 

Tony didn’t flush, and didn’t growl. Instead he just smiled, baring his teeth like a human but with all the intention of a wolf. “But you and I both know it’s the highlight of my week.” 

“You’ve got till next week, we need those results.” 

“That’s too soon.” Tony rolled off his pile of pillows and slid to his feet. Fury was still taller than him, sharp heels clicking against the smoothed stone of the floor compared to Tony’s completely soundless bare feet. “It won’t be ready by then. We’re not even close” 

“It is going to need to be.” Fury’s mouth tightened slightly and his displeasure couldn’t have been more obvious, Tony titled his head to the side taking a deep and obvious breath. Wolves couldn’t lie to each other not when so much conversation between them relied on body language. Of course Tony didn’t know any other wolves aside from his father but what he did know was how to use that to make a human uncomfortable. After all people lied like they breathed, a series of small white lies to ease tensions and mask back-stabbings. It was Tony’s way of saying ‘I see you, I know you.’ It made every other person nervous, Fury never seemed to care. 

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, following Fury through the hall towards the front foyer. “Something has to be up, you don’t normally come to threaten me in person, not when there are lackeys lives to make difficult.” 

“What it is, is none of your business. You’ll be bringing the prototype before the Master next week so it had better work for your sake .” 

“I’m going to change the world, just you watch.” Tony taunted as Fury stepped up into the coach. 

“I’m counting on it.” Fury responded and the coach jolted into motion the driver. “Just watch yourself or the Emperor really is going to make you in a fur coat this time. Tony watched the horse and carriage make its way down the drive way and onto the crowded street. His royal Emperor-ness hate werewolves the same way 

“Pepper!” Tony called, standing in the foyer barefoot and full of renewed energy, there wasn’t anything like death threats to get the juices flowing. “Call the magicians.” 

“Pepper is busy Lord Stark.” Natasha clutched a large book against her chest and regarded him with large green eyes. If he were anyone else she’d have been almost unnervingly pretty. Tony just shrugged easily; rolling his shoulders. 

“Fine, just, get the magicians. We’re moving into testing phase a little ahead of schedule. .”

\--

Steve gasped awake, rolling onto his side and coughing as his lungs clenched around nothing. Sounds came as if they were far away or his ears were full of water. Half hands-half claws scrapped across the ground the small joints in his fingers screaming with pain at being stuck between two forms. 

He wasn’t aware of much, just that the horrible moaning sound was coming from him echoing back at him almost mockingly. A soft feminine voice going, “oh my god, he’s still alive, how is he alive, Hank _do_ something.” 

The change felt like ice. Or maybe it was where his skin was missing, burned away. He remembered mage-fire, hotter than the sun surrounding him and that was all. 

“There isn’t anything we can do. He’s dying.” 

Their voices faded in and out sometimes sounding closer, the girl’s soft clear voice sometimes all around him, soaking into his tired bones. 

“What’s going on?” The girl said and she sounded closer than ever, like she was talking right against his ears. “He’s not dying.” 

“No,” the other responded, “He’s _healing_.”

It still felt like he was dying, like something was ripping itself violently out of his stomach. Steve rolled onto his side, and every muscle seized as it did tear through skin peeling away as the wolf ripped its way to the surface. Steve screamed, the sound echoing back as a howl as everything began to fade again.

The next time he woke up he could sense the sky above him, bigger than anything in the world and threatening to suck him up into the stars. He whined, and someone ran their hand through his fur nails soft against the skin down his snout a huge warm hand soothing him. He pushed into the contact. Everything ached, joints creaking when he shifted against the softness under him. 

“Sleep great warrior.” Someone rumbled from above him. 

It was hard to argue with that logic. Steve closed his eyes and let himself fall into a more natural sleep. He dreamed of fire, of the blood mage gone mad, eyes blazing with the demon that inhabited his body. He dreamed about the exact moment he knew he was going to die, could smell his own skin and fur boiling, but he wasn’t going down alone not when so many had died and so many more were in danger. He’d slammed into the mage, teeth going for its neck as they tumbled to the ground together. 

Steve opened his eyes but he was inside a low cloth hut, sunlight streaming in through a crack in the flaps of the little tent. Outside he could hear people moving and smell meat cooking. He was also alone. 

Steve sat up tentatively and when the world only swayed a little, obligingly becoming upright with him, he ran hands down his chest. The skin on his hands was smooth and human again, almost flawless. There was some rough scarring on his side, and he remembered being stabbed with hands turned into claws, digging in and holding on as if that could loosen the grip he had around its throat. It’s a bit of a surprise to see all his fingers and toes, he had never expected to come out of that battle at all, let alone intact. 

He was still staring intently at the lines of his nail beds (grabbing it felt like holding onto a hot ember skin blistering all the way up to his wrist but he couldn’t let go) where it was dirty when someone poked their head in. “I thought I heard you move.” 

She was a petite woman, curvy with a sweet little bow curve of a mouth and large eyes. 

“I guess.” Steve shook his head, the light outside was overly bright. 

“What happened?” She asked pushing herself further into the tent and into Steve’s space. 

“I was hoping you could tell me. I feel pretty awful.”

“I’m not surprised, I thought you were dead when we found you.” She crouched down more to his level, close enough for him to smell the sharpness of the pine trees that clung to her hair and skin. A wolf. “We found you in some caves near here.” 

“Was there anyone else?” 

“Nope, just you.” She shrugged.

“A body?” They had fallen together, him and that _abomination_.

“Nothing, it was just you at the centre of all the ice. Why?”

Steve frowned, if he had survived was it possible that the Zemo had survived as well? He’d been completely mad by the time Steve even noticed something was wrong. “I need to get to the forest of the East River right away.” He said instead, pushing himself to his feet with a groan, everything hurt one way or another all his joints groaning stiffly and resisting the movement. 

“Well, welcome. You’re already there.” She pursed her lips. 

“What?” Steve looked around the tent like it would suddenly tell him something different. It didn’t- no answers hiding in the corners like spiders or goodies. “I,” Steve stumbled over the words, “Phillips?”

“Phillips died in dragon massacre.” She said slowly. 

“The what?” 

\--

“Are we ready?” Tony shouted over the howl of the wind. 

“No.” Rhodes shouted back. They already _had_ this conversation and Tony is the engineer. If he says it will fly it will fly, it’s stability and landing that he’s not so sure about. 

Tony grinned at him; sure it was lost behind the face plate of his armour, still Rhodey knew him, he had to feel the implied grin. Natasha was clinging to one of the harnesses on the deck, wind whipping through her red hair and pushing it like a crazy halo. Her goggles obscured most of her face and if she was nervous about the uncertainty of their maiden voyage she didn’t look like it. 

“Good.” Tony shouted back. “Just the way I like it.” He said, quieter to himself. He’d fly just _let them watch_. 

The prototype was anchored to the highest of the guard towers where Tony had endured the lugging of all the pieces with barely constrained impatience. What better way to show off the prototype than to land it in front of the palace? The dirigible was a concept that his father could only dream of, if something as large as a dragon could fly through the air than it must be possible to mimic that a way to make man fly. 

The mages were gathered in a circle under the tower looking small from so high up, Tony didn’t need to see them clearly to tell each was looking sceptically up at the machine. The Circle of Magi had resisted Tony’s requests repeatedly. They were eager to distance themselves from known werewolves after the war and that included the rare and infamous urban wolf Tony Stark. That and as mages they seemed to dislike technology on principle as if mixing the two were some kind of sin. 

Tony waved to Wanda, easy to spot not only for being one of the only elves but her love of bright red billowing robes, and she gave him a secret little smile and waved back while Lady Grey scowled. Pietro hung limberly from one of the lower struts he waved at her and she broke out into a wide grin even going as far as to wiggle her fingers. Lady Grey of the mages scowled harder. Tony did like days when he could make the leader of Circle of Magi scowl like that. Petty wins in a cold world and all that. 

“Test flight number 1.” Tony shouted, “Pietro, Natasha are you ready for this?” 

“Affirmative.” Natasha called back, she didn’t raise her voice more than she needed to just enough that his hearing could catch it before it was stolen by the wind. 

“Just go Stark.” Pietro snapped he was clinging to the harness that kept him strapped into the machine and from falling off the bottom. 

“Let her go Pepper!” 

Pepper untied the mooring lines while Tony clambered down to the dock he’d hastily built on the side of the tower. “Natasha, hit the engines.” 

They probably wouldn’t crash, the gas that the Magi had boiled out of the chemical mixture was dangerous but it floated so if his engines failed at least they wouldn’t crash right away. Might explode, but they wouldn’t crash. 

Tony stepped on the pier and kicked off hard. The craft resisted for a moment before shuddering and swaying, pushing off the building. Pepper made a horrified little gasp and they hung for a moment, dropping slowly before they balanced out. Tony let out the breath he had been holding. 

The engines kicked in with a jerk that made the whole frame shake and rattle loudly. Tony held onto his perch hard fingers digging into the light wooden frame. They engaged and his machine began to rise into the sky. He could just make out the shapes of the mages below as they shrunk and were eventually smudged out of existence. Even his Pepper with hair like the fiercest sunset was soon out of view. 

Tony yelled, Pietro joining his whoop of joy. 

They rose into the air, coming out from on top of the hill over the nearest forest, and it spread out under them like a thick blanket. Tony scaled the side until he was perched on top of the steering mechanism. It was too stiff to operate normally but with his armour he had just enough force to shift the mechanisms. They swung hard, and Tony couldn’t help himself he was _flying_ he tipped the mechanism pushing them up higher. 

The plan was to be seen over one of the further villages before turning back towards the palace to demonstrate just how far the dirigible could fly. The clouds had always seemed so close, but no matter how Tony pushed the machine they proved to be elusive just taunting him there at the tips of his fingers. Unable to stop from rising to a dare Tony pushed them that much harder. 

None of them expected it when the wind sent them tumbling. 

“Stark!” Natasha screamed, for once looking scared as her feet went out from under her leaving her hanging in the sky by her harness alone. In an impressive display of flexibility she grabbed the harness and used it to pull herself around to wrap her thighs around one of the struts. 

“Do something.” Pietro screeched, clinging for dear life as his silvery hair whipped around his face. 

The whole thing shook and screamed like it was coming apart. Tony tipped them down praying that the frame could hold up under the stress. He hadn’t had time to test the integrity of the frame. He had poured the whole last sleepless week into working out how to use the engines in air. The whole thing broke with a resounding snap as Tony pushed it down too fast to compensate.

The left engine shifted angle suddenly and throwing them into a violent spin. 

Tony’s scream echoed inside his helm. They were literally falling out of the sky over the forest. Tumbling through the air end over kettle and barely hanging onto the frame. It was slowing their fall, but only just. 

They were just brushing the tree line when the engine caught fire. 

“Jump!” Tony screamed scrambling at the loose harness that was holding him in place. “The gas is going to blow.”

He didn’t have time to see if Natasha or Pietro made it off. 

Tony hit the trees, or the trees hit him. He tucked himself as close as possible, and he could swear he felt every branch, every impact that his armour barely managed to absorb. Tony would like to think this was a life flashing before your eyes kind of moment. Only there wasn’t anything but cold and panic and pain and he didn’t want to have to do this again. 

Tony blacked out when he hit the ground, rattling inside of his armour like a jar of spare parts. 

There wasn’t a sense of time passing or even an awareness that he’d lost consciousness just that one moment he was nothing and the next the world was imposing itself. 

“Stark. Stark.” Everything ached, his hair ached, his tongue ached and all the normal places hurt too, but that was par for course. “Stark, get up. I’m pretty sure you’re alive in there so wake up.” 

“What?” He groaned, she was right he hurt way too much to be dead. “The prototype?” He asked, opening his eyes to the darkness inside his helmet. 

“Broken into pieces by the explosion, and the tiny pieces were even broken by the impact.” She said curtly. “Are you mobile?”

“Hold up,” Tony pushed himself into a sitting position. The armour must have saved him from the fall through the trees. Chalk another near death experience to the shell-head. He systematically checked that everything was in working order, or something approximating it. Well his toes and his fingers seemed to be working and the sharp pain in his back could be internal bleeding but there wasn’t much he could do about that even if it was so he decided to ignore it instead. Tony grunted in pain as he pushed himself to his feet. 

“Pietro?”

“Don’t know.” Natasha watched him as he swayed on his feet for a moment. “We need to move.” She rarely snapped at him. In fact she rarely even bothered to make facial expressions for him just bland competence that drove him to distraction with curiosity under normal circumstances. 

“What? Why, we need to look for Pietro.” Tony rolled his shoulder feeling the pop and burn of his muscles.

“Because we’ve crashed in the East River forest and it’s not safe.”

Tony had his whole life as practice in being not offended by this kind of thing. 

“I didn’t peg you as the type to hate werewolves.” Tony said instead. “I’m going to find Pietro.” 

Natasha made a rude noise and vanished into the trees. Tony stared at where she had been mildly shocked. 

The first step was the hardest Tony reminded himself, forcing his bruised body to keep moving, which was a lie the second step hurt too. It was his fault that they had crashed, the prototype hadn’t been ready to fly and Tony knew it. Knew it in a way that an engineer looked at a plan and felt in their gut that it wouldn’t last. Tony limped towards where he could smell burning. There had been one or two lab mishaps with the new gas that left his hair singed and walls blackened. Follow burning and he’d find where the parts that had been caught in the explosion fell. 

Curious place. Everyone knew the East River forest was where the werewolves ran, after the war most packs had fled the anger of the Emperor to the far reaches of the wilderness into the old forests and have not been seen or heard from since. Tony had never actually been here before. 

He’d been in a forest. Once. Briefly. Couldn’t get over how wrong it smelled, like having his nose stuffed with leaves. Everything smelled flat, there wasn’t the complexity of the city, just flowers and trees that he didn’t really care about enough to try and differentiate their pollen-y smells. .

Tony couldn’t have said how long he stumbled through the forest for. Trees and pain, more trees, more pain. He wasn’t getting the whole country life-style thing. Mostly, trees and pain and a few flowers to liven up the stumble from time to time. 

The scent of burning got sharper. He was getting closer to the crash site. 

He picked up the broken shaft drive from one of the engines and it bent in the middle sharply like a broken bone. It had fractured, stress? Maybe he should use a different metal alloy, anything heavier would result in slower movement and less lift. Tony frowned at it thoughtfully. 

“Glad to see you so worried about me.” Pietro bitched. He was sitting in a tree tossing small knives; they spun through the air for a moment and handed back in his palm. “It’s in lots of tiny pieces.” 

“You’re okay.” Tony nodded, and the tiny knot of worry unclenched in his stomach. Not that he was about to tell Pietro about it. 

“Fine enough.” He jumped down from the tree landing in an easy crouch on the forest floor. Elves, like werewolves should have been more comfortable in the forest but in his human leggings and metal jewellery looked every bit as out of place as Tony felt. 

Tony was about to say something, when he was hit from the side. 

It was like being hit with a sledgehammer, it jarred through his armour everything tilting sideways for a long psychedelic moment before he slammed into a tree. The roar that followed made the trees shiver their leaves dancing and shaking. Tony pulled himself to his feet. He couldn’t quite see what it was, large and wearing shadows like a cloak. It roared again and something primal inside of Tony quailed, he bared his teeth behind the face-plate and pulled his sword from the sheath that was built into the back of the armour. 

Pietro pulled the same trick, pulling the shadows around himself until even Tony’s eyes slid right over where he’d been refusing to acknowledge his presence. Which was great but it also left Tony as the sole target it lunged suddenly at him, claws cutting through the air where Tony had been. 

If this is what werewolves were maybe Tony was better off being the bastard mutt of Manhattan. He lunged forward, sword held up in a defensive stance. The fighting was a bit one-sided the creature was huge and yet too fast for something its size and Tony was having trouble using his sword to keep it from going for his head . Pietro dipped in and out of the corner of his eye as Tony allowed the armour to take the brunt of the assault. Magic flared and tingled at his fingers sending bolts of light shooting from his palms towards where its head should be when it was distracted by Pietro. Still they weren’t working. 

With a scream to make the banshees proud Natasha dropped from the trees right in front of the creature mid-back step. Fire engulfed it, and it let out a roar, crashing away through the trees. 

“I told you it wasn’t safe.” Natasha said with a scowl. 

Tony shook his head, flipping the face plate up to get a better look at her. The air around her was still shining, burning hot against his eyes with pure magic. “But you never told me you were a blood mage.” He said tartly. “People would talk.” 

“People do talk.” Pietro hummed. “The fact that she’s a blood mage is the least of your problems Stark.”

“Wait, what?” 

“She works for Fury.” 

“I hired you to know about these things!” Tony said loudly, cross. 

“I knew.” Pietro said and Tony grit his teeth. 

“Harlot,” he pointed at Natasha if-that-was-even-her-name, “see if I pay you again.” Pietro too. He was only ever working with Pepper again. She was clearly the only person in the whole world who could be trusted if only she would agree to test inventions with him. “Now I’m going home, and you can tell Fury where he can stick his head.” 

“Stark.” She stepped forward and the last of the magic she’d called up sizzled off her skin so she didn’t hurt to look at anymore. 

“What?” He snapped. 

“Do you know the way?” She arched one thin red eyebrow at him, judging face on full. It wasn’t difficult to work out which way the city was, what he wasn’t entirely sure of is if they were closer to the outlying villages or the city proper. 

“Both of you, collect what bits of the engine you can, leave the chassis. When we get back you’re both so fired.” 

“Assuming we get back. That thing was strong.” Pietro said softly, “what was that?” 

“There have been a number of attacks on the edges of the city, entire villages slaughtered overnight.” Natasha said softly, “Empire has been keeping it quiet but it won’t stay hidden for much longer.” 

“That’s why Fury pushed up the prototype.” Tony said, obvious. He should have known that it was more than Fury being a prick because he could. There was always more to anything Fury did than the obvious. “Politics.” Fury kept him on a tight leash, the Emperor’s entire opinion on one Tony Stark was influenced by Fury enough to know that one wrong move would actually be the end. Death more likely than exile. Now that he didn’t make weapons anymore Fury was strict with him ‘do you know what happens to lame dogs Stark?’ 

“Balance out the bad with something to restore faith in the empire.” Natasha said simply she had one of the many series of tiny gears that Tony had made to run off of the spinning of the drive shaft. She let it twirl between her fingers for a moment. 

“So that was a werewolf?” Pietro asked he wasn’t even bothering to look like he was trying to collect pieces, Natasha was looking half hearted at best. Tony had the slightly charred remains of slightly less than half of one of the engines. 

“Impossible to tell.” Natasha shrugged, “what else would be eating people?” 

“I’d like to object to that. I’ve never eaten anyone.” Tony sniped. 

Even he couldn’t tell you if that had been a werewolf or not. He’d only ever transformed once and he’d woken up in the heart of his captor’s base surrounded by corpses and no memory of how he’d got there. Tony had never shifted since, could feel it burning in his blood like a fever some days but he was better than that. He didn’t need to give in, that would only support what people said about him. No, he played their game and he played it better. 

“I’m sure you haven’t. Not even Lord Barrington’s daughter?” Pietro asked, looking entirely unconcerned. 

“We’ll I’ve never eaten anyone who didn’t ask nicely for it.” Tony said with a little snap of his teeth. 

Natasha snorted. “Leave that, we should move.” 

“It’s my design, I am not leaving it to decorate some stupid forest.” 

“I should just leave you.” Natasha muttered.

He couldn’t carry it all in his arms, but he did make Natasha scale one of the trees to grab one of the sails that had gotten caught up there so he could use it as a make-shift bag. They couldn’t move very fast, the parts were heavy and the terrain was uneven. Only the passing of the sun told time, there was no cutting edge clockwork to tinker with here. 

Tony had never once stopped to think about how big the forest was. Well once, maybe, when he’d been a child before his father was murdered when he’d been to the top of one of the remaining guard towers to look out over York. 

He was going to have to re-evaluate that. The East River forest wasn’t big. It was very very big. 

\--

“Something is wrong in the forest, her spirit is uneasy.” 

Thor was large as a man and huge as a wolf, he’d come from the lands across the great divide, a land that Steve had thought existed only in stories. He’d come chasing his brother, Loki after a dispute with their father. Part of Steve didn’t want to believe him but the rest of accepted this easily because what else could Thor be with his huge ands and his unusual platinum coat?

Steve was lazing in one of the huge wildflower fields near the village. Bumblebees hovered lazily in the air above his face. The sun was warm on his fur, and he was feeling content and lazy. He could hear Jan and Hank, the pair who’d found him, rolling around in the pollen growing at each other playfully. 

“What is it?” Steve asked.

He’d been in the village for a week now just coming to terms with how much had changed and how much hadn’t. 

The war cost them a lot, so many had died. Hank had been one of the first pups born after the defeat, the wolves retreating deep in to the forest, never to meddle in human politics again. Even after the fight with Zemo he couldn’t begrudge the Blood Mages the will to live. No one deserved to die just for being born differently. 

Zemo’s problem had been his bitterness. He’d gave everything to win his way, to kill the humans that would have killed him. Hate only brought more hate, Steve wasn’t sorry that he’d stopped him. 

“I am unsure Steven.” Thor frowned thoughtfully at the fluffy white clouds and the too-blue sky. It was hard to believe that he’d missed decades asleep when everything was feeling just so perfect. The sky didn’t age and the grass still felt the same under his back. “I can feel her spirit, and she is restless.” 

“What?” Jan asked head sticking up and fixing them with an interested stare, squealing as Hank tackled her from the side and they rolled around together sending up clouds of pollen into the air. Hank sneezed, and Jan used the distraction to topple the bigger wolf, squirming until she was on top. 

Back in Steve’s day courtship wasn’t so forward, but they were so happy and in love and Steve knew just how fast lives could be destroyed. Their scents were mingled, clearly bonded. He hadn’t noticed it until he spent enough time around both of them, adopted into their little circle almost immediately because Jan couldn’t imagine the world without relentless optimism and wolves watching out for each other and Hank couldn’t find a reason to argue with her (on this point). 

Steve was just happy that the very things he fought for, _the pack_ , were the things that endured through bitter defeat and exile. 

“Thor says something is up with the spirit of the forest.” 

Jan blinked at him, looked around like she could see if anything was wrong. 

“You feel it too?” Hank rolled onto his back, pressing cautiously up against Thor’s side while Jan sprawled indulgently across Steve’s legs like there was never a question of her being welcome there. 

“I do friend-Hank.” Thor rumbled. “I do not know the spirit of this forest well, but she has seemed upset of late and it is only getting worse.”

“You can feel it?” Jan looked at Hank, ticking her head to the side inquisitively and staring at Hank. 

“I’ve noticed something was different, but it’s faint. I don’t think I’m strong enough.” Hank flattened his ears against his head and Thor tangled his fingers in the fur on his head giving it a rough jostle that made Hank yelp. 

“How about you Steve?” Jan blinked up at him. 

He closed his eyes, listening to the buzz of the bees, the sound of the leaves rustling in the faint breeze. “I don’t think so. I don’t even know what normal _is_.”

“Huh.” Jan lifted her muzzle to the wind, eyes closed. “I don’t think I can either.” 

“If the forest is unhappy we should check it out.” Steve said, as much as he enjoyed Thor, Jan and Hank’s company he still felt uneasy. When he’d fallen asleep under the same stars a month ago he had been at war, ripping apart with teeth and claws any whom would dare trespass into Brooklyn territory. He couldn’t just turn it off. Part of him didn’t even want to. 

“Maybe we’ll even find another frozen stud.” Jan winked at him and Hank snapped his teeth playfully at her. 

That set them off again, and Steve only just rolled out of the way as they tumbled. “I believe that they might wish to be alone friend-Steve.” Thor grinned at him, exotic golden fur shining in the sun. 

“I think you’re right.” 

There was a stream that wasn’t too far from the field, and Thor and Steve raced there, biting at each other’s heels like puppies. Steve tumbled into the stream sputtering as Thor boomed with laughter. “If you wish to investigate the disturbances in the forest, I will assist you.” 

“Thanks.” Steve grinned at him, bumping his shoulder against Thor’s. 

Tony began the forest trek with a sort of ambivalent attitude toward trees in general. They made wood and paper and fires and that was all great. Now, however, Tony hated trees and forests. 

It was only stubborn pride that had him clinging to the bag of the parts of engine. 

Natasha was scouting ahead, moving through the trees like a shade, light on her feet like Tony hadn’t seen her moving around the mansion in the latest fashions for the past few months. This gracefulness was slightly unexpected and jarring . Pietro was closer to him, but quietly picking his way through the foliage. The armour wasn’t made for sneaking through a forest and even if Pietro was making any noise it was impossible to hear over the racket of the suit pushing through underbrush. 

“So. She works for Fury.” Tony tried. 

“Yeah.” Pietro answered. 

“And you’ve known for how long without sharing?” Tony needed this kind of thing. His position in the empire was built on sand. The power balances were ever shifting and he was always teetering on the edge at a natural disadvantage. 

“Her mission was to watch you, if news of the werewolves broke.” 

Tony scowled, “it wouldn’t have been my first riot.” 

“Fury already lost your father to a mob, I figured things were going to get dicey if the Empire was keeping such close tabs on you, and it would be easier to have a second pair of eyes.” Tony bit back a snarl at the mention of it. 

Everyone else was smart enough to know that talking about Howard Stark was taboo. Pietro had a flare for the ‘fuck you and your horse too,’ and didn’t care for things like taboo. After all, he was an assassin of the highest order and his sister was tip-toeing on the very edge of being declared a Blood Mage and summarily executed for being too powerful instead choosing to stay locked away in the tower of the circle of Magi like some princess in a story book. .

He had something appropriately scathing on the very tip of his tongue. 

Or he did until something howled to their left. Tony felt himself go cold. The howl wavered, tapering off in a lasting note. Something answered it, another joining in. 

“Move.” Natasha materialized at his side. 

“Can you understand them?” Pietro asked, as they hustled through the trees like werewolves couldn’t hear prey as large and unsubtle as Tony crashing around. The armour hadn’t been made for stealth; it had been a way to tap into his potential without him needing to shift. Stealth had never really been a problem before. Of course, neither had trees and small bushes with surprising tensile strength.

“Nope.” 

The howls were nothing but noise. A noise he could make with lips and tongue but not a language he could understand. It could have been a signal to surround them, and it could be the wolf-version of a booty-call for all he could understand it. It sounded like they were multiplying, wolves all around them. 

“Then what help are you?” Pietro vanished from his side, melting into the shadows. 

He set down the bag carefully so he could draw his sword again. Not that it did a whole lot of good last time. But you never knew when something just needed a good stabbing in the face. Tony was a great fan of multiple answers to the same question. The faceplate slid shut with a soft snick. The whole armour was so warded that it muted even the smells from outside. 

Ahead the forest bust into light. The illusion of flames leaping out of air. There was a half-human yell and Natasha bust through the trees. “Wolves.” She said, “move.” 

Tony didn’t even have time to think about the parts. The wolf that flung itself out of the forest in front of him was huge. It towered above them thick as a mountain and loud enough to shake the air around them and it shone with a brilliant lustre that somewhere between awe inspiring and terrifying. Tony slammed it in the chest with the force from his palms, magic rushing up from his stomach to erupt from his open hands. The pure magic--Tony had no patience for spells unless he was building--slammed into the creature’s chest and it flew backwards into a tree. A second one, smaller came out of the trees, dark in colour, Pietro flowed past Tony, short swords catching the light for only a moment before he was on the creature. 

Two more came out, one almost as big as the other which was, yep, getting up. Tony had all the luck. Natasha was at his side, wrists beginning to glow with fire as she opened the gateways between her mind, body and the demon world. 

“I think we should run.” Tony said, backing up a step drawing his sword and bringing the point to face the one in front of him. Its fur shone dark golden, even all the way down the bulky lines of its body. There was a small part of him that wondered if he looked so stupid in that form too, like a man and wolf and like neither. They were naked and vulnerable save for the claws and teeth. 

Well he’d thought so until he was hit with a bolt of lightening so strong that Tony flew backwards, trees snapping around him. The dampening of the armour took a majority of the hit but Tony could feel the snapping of static in the air around him crackling against his lips even inside the armour like tiny little biting kisses. 

“Definitely should run.” Tony mumbled to himself, getting to his feet blearily. Something flew by his face, like a flash of light concentrated, and scorched a tree. The small wolf had thrown it. Natasha was throwing fire back, coiling it through the air to her will until it reared like a snake lashing out in burning tendrils. 

Pietro engaged the others, dancing around them to keep their attention while Tony pulled himself together putting his sword away so he could focus on his magic instead. 

This time he tried a spell drawing on the ruins etched to the inside of his armour, channelling through the runes he had carved into his armour. It cut the time it took to cast it right down, force and electricity at his fingers. 

“Duck!” Tony shouted and Natasha ducked behind a tree while Pietro hit the ground sliding under a swipe of claws. The difference between unleashing pure magic and funnelling the energy into an actual spell was the effects with pure magic you lose power in any number of unintended effects. Casting a spell forced that energy to obey your command. _Explode_ he’d thought. 

With his eyes closed the burst of light was still too-bright. The concussive blast didn’t hit him, but it did throw all the wolves back he stood at the epicentre. It wouldn’t put them down but it would give them time. Time to run like common dogs. 

“Let’s go.” Tony yelled, stumbling almost blindly. He couldn’t see but he could feel Pietro’s grip on his arm tugging him forward, Natasha on the other side the two of them keeping him from running into any trees while his eyes streamed with tears. 

\--

Breathing hurt, it felt like being hit with a war hammer right in the chest. 

“What _was_ that?” Hank rasped while Jan, furthest from the blast rubbed at her eyes or clawing at them, Steve could only make out their outlines. He could hear the frantic beat of Hank and Jan’s hearts counterpoint to the slower pulse of Thor. 

“Is everyone okay?” Steve asked. 

“I can’t see.” Jan said, her voice sharp with irritation. “Anything.” 

“It was a combination of force and lightening magic. Ingenious actually.” Thor rumbled. “The man of iron is mighty indeed.”

“He’s not going to be easy to take down.” Jan said tightly. Hank pulled himself to his feet, muzzle raised to the air trying to track where the scent was coming from blindly. “How did they get this close to the village? What if they find us?” 

“We’ll kill them.” Steve said after a full pause. “It’s too great of a risk.” 

Hank looked like he was going to object but Jan nodded slowly. “We have too.” 

“Jan, stay on their trail but don’t get too close. To fight armour I am going to need my armour.” Steve stood up, shaking the residual black spots from his vision. “Thor, Hank, flank them, don’t engage but make sure they don’t turn towards the camp.”

“Steve.” Hank stopped him, touching his shoulder carefully. “I think we should try and talk with them.” 

“They were trained fighters.” The Blood Mage with the flaming hair and the slippery elf were far too proficient with their blades to be innocent, and then there was the weird armour of the third. No, this was no scouting party. Steve had died for his pack once; nothing had changed since then. 

“I see that, but perhaps we should ask? Maybe this is all a misunderstanding.” Hank looked so hopeful for a moment but Steve shook his head. 

“It’s a risk _I_ can’t take.” 

He shouldn’t have left the camp without his shield at least, but they had told him the war was over and lost. He relied on instinct as he ducked under a low hanging branch, using his tail to balance himself as he tore through the woods.

His armour had survived the sleep with him. His shield had come from his father and his father’s father before that. The legend was that it came from the time before the spirit of the moon goddess gave them the forms of the wolves in which to defend themselves with. It felt a bit like coming home strapping himself into the armour again and testing the balance of the shield, It was of course as true as it had ever been. 

He pulled the helmet over his face. 

He moved slower in his human form. As if the forest was reluctant to be as accommodating. 

A howl made with a human voice sounded different, couldn’t hit the same modulations or tones. Still, Steve threw back his head and he howled, ending it with a question. Over the forest someone answered, difficult to tell without being in wolf form, but not impossible. Jan answered him, a wordless ‘this way.’

Steve tore through the forest after them. 

Ahead of him, thunder rumbled too loud and too sharp to be natural. Magic. 

Steve pushed himself harder. They would not escape him. He didn’t hear it coming, one moment the action was ahead of him and the next he was being slammed into, sharp edge of a knife just glancing off his breastplate. 

“You stand like a man, but you’re one of the wolves.” It was the slim elven one. This close his eyes were pale like his skin and hair. Shadows and moonlight instead of something tangible, but is blade rang true enough even if he looked like something from a vivid nightmare. 

“You will regret stepping foot into the forest.” Steve brought his shield up. 

“Who stepped? _I flew_.”

He was fast. So fast that he almost blurred and Steve was having trouble blocking his assaults in time let alone going on the offensive. 

He brought the shield up, taking a hit from the blades, and a kick in the shin. Steve growled, pushing forwards and catching the elf off guard, he stumbled, and Steve tried to bear him to the ground. 

The armoured one grabbed him by the back and tossed him away. Steve landed in a crouch, pulling up his shield in case he pressed his advantage. Only the armour didn’t, it stopped by the fallen one, watching over the elf as it climbed to his feet. 

“Natasha is keeping the others busy, I can handle the knight errant, now go.” The armour said sharply. 

One moment the elf was standing and the next he faded from view and was gone. Steve wasn’t ill-trained enough to be distracted by it the way that the red armour clearly meant it to be. He lunged forward, not with his sword which dragged almost limply from his off side like an afterthought, but with a blade of sharpened air at the tips of his fingers. Steve grunted, taking the strike right in the centre of his shield and staggering back a few steps. The magic behind the blow made it stronger than any man could have dealt.

“I bet my armour is better than yours.” The man taunted him and Steve frowned. He threw the shield, letting it fly from the tips of his fingers. It spun through the air, flying to the side where the armoured man dodged. It hit a tree behind him and bounced. 

It hit him square in the back and he fell, landing on his face while the shield bounced off to the side. 

“Who are you?” Steve stepped on his back, keeping the man pinned. “What are you doing in the forest.” 

The air around him ignited in a flash, bright and disorienting but not too hot, the man pushed back, rolling out of his way and pulling himself to his feet. Thor crashed through the trees next, Hank and Jan coming from the sides until it was the four of them versus the two, probably three, _elves_ , of them. 

“Listen--” Hank began but Steve snapped his teeth at him and Hank stilled.

“If we have to go through you to get out of here- we will.” The armour said, and Steve had to assume that he was being watched, the reflective spots where the eyes were made it difficult to tell. “Do it, come at me.” It taunted him. 

Light again, exploding and Steve covered his eyes before it got white hot, which proved to be a mistake because the Blood Mage was on him, launching herself at his chest. Thor roared in the background.

Steve tried to grab her to throw her but she was fast and strong, skin glowing red with the power of a horde of angry demons. She swung off his back, lashing out to kick Jan right in the face as she tried to help. Hank and the red armour were fighting, 

Hank nor Jan knew much about fighting, they were reacting on instinct more than anything else and that much was obvious when they were up against experienced combatants. Steve threw the Blood Mage, watching as she tucked into a little ball, rolling harmlessly to a stop, but he didn’t have time to ready for another attack because the armour was bearing down on Hank. 

Thor grabbed the Blood Mage out of the air as she launched herself at Stece, and she was on Thor, vicious and spitting demon curses. They tangled, Steve already running towards where the armour had Hank pinned. The elf tripped him and he stumbled into them, the three of them going down in a heap. Hank’s claws caught on the mail. Light sparking from the red armour’s fingers as he yelled. Startled, Steve lashed out with an elbow, and they rolled apart. Back against a tree the full face plate watched him. 

“You’re good. I’ll give you that,” it said, voice ringing hollow and unreal. 

Hank was blurrily getting to his feet holding himself carefully and Steve placed himself between the enemy and him. “Face me like a man,” Steve said, standing tall. 

“Is that what you call yourself? A man. You’re an animal.” It laughed. 

With a flick of the hand the visor popped up revealing his face. Dark eyebrows, pale skin and blue eyesjust a man. But it was the scent that hit him like a fist to the stomach, clean and sharp like metal and pure energy all tangled together. Steve’s mouth was dry.. 

The Blood Mage could have ripped out his heart with her tiny hands in that moment and he doubted he’d notice. It wasn’t a man wearing the armour, it was a wolf. Not any wolf, it was _his_. 

“You.” Steve almost snarled. 

The man looked stunned, sagging back against the tree and blinking rapidly. 

“Stark.” The Blood Mage yelled, ducking under one of Thor’s huge fists. 

One by one Steve’s senses were beginning to zero on him, the muffled strum of his heart, the scent of pheromones pouring off him so thick that Steve was almost gagging on them. 

“What on earth?” Hank said softly. 

Nothing less than the sky falling could have broken Steve from the daze he found himself in. Which is almost exactly what happened. The creature that broke into their little clearing grabbed Thor, tossing him into Jan was huge. 

It smelled like old blood and rotten meat. It smelled like black magic. It wailed and the whole forest shook with it. It turned Steve’s blood cold. Wrong, it was wrong. His--his _mate_ slid down the tree, acting like he couldn’t look away from Steve limp and confused. 

“I don’t know what that is, but I don’t like it.” Hank called.. 

“It reeks of magic.” Thor rumbled, settling into a fighting stance again. 

“It’s a lesser demon bound to the body of a wolf.” The Blood Mage said, her words accented and sharp. 

It lunged at Steve, moving fast and fluid like water. Steve took a hit with the shield and the next threw him to the ground. It was the Blood Mage who saved him, hitting it in the side with a ball of fire and drawing it towards her. Jan was right beside her, the two of them engaging it by being too fast to be hit and dealing damage in little stings. The elf joined them and they danced around. 

“You are not welcome in the forest demon of darkness.” Thor boomed, hands out in front of him and drawing lightening down from the very sky. 

Jan and the other two dove out of the way, Blood Mage pulling Jan behind a tree while the elf dropped to the ground. The crack of thunder was loud this close. On instinct Steve knelt by his mate. 

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Large blue eyes were staring blurrily up at him. “What did you _do_ to me?!” He accused. “I—you smell. I can’t focus.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Steve frowned. 

The creature howled, too close, Jan yelling “ **Steve!** ” but with one hand his mate called the blue force magic to his palm and hit the chest of the creature, knocking it back a few steps. 

“Stark. It’s going to kill us all.” The elf hissed, crouching too-close “Stop messing around.” 

“I know. I know. Keep it busy.” He closed his eyes like something was hurting him and Steve was going to spread out over him, cover him from the world and lick that amazing smell right off of him. “Natasha and thunder-fellow, ready for a big one?”

“Thor.” Steve said tightly. 

“You,” He stared at Steve’s mouth, “get away from me, go help Pietro. If we hit it with everything at the same time...” 

Steve pushed himself to his feet and threw himself at the abomination. If he didn’t give himself time to think, it would work out for the next five minutes. Or they could all be dead. Pietro was fast and teasing, feigning openings only to dance out of the way at the last moment with. Hank was mostly getting in Jan’s way trying to keep her safe, she was fast and light but had little actual combat training relying entirely on the instincts of the wolf. 

Steve made himself a target and used his shield to absorb strikes. 

It tripped up Pietro and he fell hard short swords skidding away from him just at Tony shouted, “Now!” 

Steve tossed himself in front of Pietro, pulling up his shield and using it to hide behind. Behind him, fire met force met lightening. It exploded outward magic sizzling the air. It sounded like the end of the world crashing down around their ears. 

Then it was over. 

The creature groaned. 

“Oh no you don’t.” Jan snapped.

It died with a whimper, Jan shoving one of Pietro’s short swords through its heart while it tried to recover. For endless moments no one moved, the forest itself was still and quiet. 

“So, that was a demon?” Jan asked. Pulling the sword out of it. It seemed dead. 

“A lesser demon.” Thor answered, “I have faced much larger, but this was unusual.”

“It’s under a powerful binding spell.” Despite the soot and the scrolling lines of incantations that covered half of her face, Steve couldn’t deny she was pretty if a little severe. “I can break it now that it is dead.” She made a swiping motion with her hand, and the shadowy form melted away leaving the body of a werewolf. 

“Oh god. That’s Scott, he went missing a few months ago.” Jan pressed her hand to her mouth. 

“You. Undo what you did.” The armour grabbed him suddenly, face plate down. Steve wanted to rip it off its hinges, flexed his fingers until the leather groaned between his fingers under the strain. “Now.” 

“I can’t undo anything.” Steve grit his teeth.

“Tony?” Pietro was moving closer to them and Thor reached out to stop him but met with Pietro’s knives drawn and pointed at him. “No sudden moves, Blondie.” 

“Undo it!” Tony shouted.

“It’s not a spell,” Hank said, surprisingly softly. “You’ve initiated the bonding process.” 

“I didn’t.” Tony snarled, clipping each word with a growl, baring his teeth. 

Natasha stepped between Steve and Tony, head held high and Steve was going to tear her limb from limb if she was going to challenge this. “Explain what happened to Lord Stark.” She stressed his title enough to give Steve pause. Humans had Lords; wolves had no need for such things. 

Tony pulled himself to his feet, using the tree to keep himself steady. “Explain.” 

Steve frowned. Tony was a wolf every - wolf thought of bonding, of finding their mate and learning to spend their lives together. The smell of him, so complex that Steve imagined that he could actually spend the rest of his life trying to tease apart the different layers of that alone. Right now Natasha was staring into his eyes head tilted back in an obvious challenge that was designed to incite everything primal inside of Steve. He reigned it in through force of will alone. 

Blood Mages always did know best how to get under his skin, so casually arrogant in their powers. 

There weren’t words for bonding, it just happened. The spirit of the forest blessed wolves with the ability to find their love, and cursed them with the ability to love no other. Ever. Some wolves wasted away because they couldn’t find that _one_. 

“It’s a reaction of some sort. I think I’m burning.” 

“Tony, calm down.” Natasha said sharply. “Relax and think about it. What is happening?”

“I don’t know.” Tony hissed, taking a shaky breath and letting it out slowly. “Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

“ _You_ initiated it.” Steve growled, pressing his hands to his face. He’d have waited. He would have waited until the danger was past. Who was he kidding, he didn’t have a home, he had nothing to offer his mate but himself, still he would have gave it his all. Only Tony hadn’t waited. 

“I didn’t.” Tony bit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Steve took a step closer and Natasha blocked him, he snapped his teeth at her face in frustration but she didn’t flinch. 

“Bonding is the greatest moment in a wolf’s life.” Hank said softly stepping forward. “You’re a wolf under that armour, breathe deeply, can you smell how me and Janet share a scent? Calm down and breathe. It’s the moment when two wolves who were chosen by the Great Spirit for each other meet and agree to share their lives. You should know this.”

“I didn’t agree to anything.” 

“Can we talk alone?” Steve asked, looking from Tony to Natasha. He took another step forwards, and Natasha raised both of her hands in obvious threat. 

“No. Let me. I can do this.” Tony nodded sharply. “But stay close, in case he tries to eat me.” 

“I’m not going to eat you.” Steve muttered while Jan choked on something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. 

“Will everything be alright Steven?” Thor rumbled. 

“It will.” 

“It will?” Tony echoed.

“Tony?” Pietro asked. 

“Collect the parts of my engine, I dropped them somewhere.” 

“I am not searching this stupid forest for your engine parts.” 

“I will assist friend of Steve’s bonded,” Thor said while Pietro have him a suspicious look. 

Steve could sense Natasha lurking on the edge of his senses but chose to ignore her, focusing instead on the man in front of him. Given a chance to look at it properly, the armour shone mutely but unlike any colour he had ever seen before. The edges shone like gold but it looked stronger and harder than gold. 

“Your amour is amazing.” Steve began, a little lamely. 

Tony laughed at him, looking a little hysterical around the edges. “It’s certainly one of a kind. I created all the alloys myself. This isn’t about my armour is it?” 

“No, but you look terrified of me,” Steve admitted softly. 

“I’m not scared of anything.” Tony replied with a painful twist of his lips. “Except, explain again this bonding thing. All I got was me, you, sharing lives.”

“How have you never heard about this?” Steve took a tentative step closer, Tony didn’t look like he was about to lash out with his sword but he’d already proved himself to be more than an adept mage. “What pack are you from?” 

“I’ve never been a wolf.” Tony hedged frowning. 

“But it’s what you are.” Steve’s eyebrows drew together. “You’re a wolf.” 

“I’m Tony.” He said instead. “Just Tony. Well, not just Tony. I’m a Lord of the Courts, and a genius too. I was born a werewolf but I don’t let it bother me.” 

“Bother you? You’re a wolf Tony.” Steve wasn’t grasping the concept.

“No. I’m an engineer.” Tony snarled at him. 

He was so close, close enough that he could smell the wave of pheromones that were pouring off of Tony, could almost taste the metallic sharpness on the back of his throat. Steve pressed his face against the helmet, the metal was warm against his skin. Tony’s body was begging him for this, to glut in eachother’s body until they very souls aligned and they shared scents.

“I don’t. I’m not—this is wrong.” 

It took effort to pull away, to stop himself from licking the sweat gathered along the edge of his facial hair. 

“Nothing has been right since I woke up,” Steve confessed, ignoring the soft questioning sound that Tony made. “Nothing but this. So I’m going to follow you.” 

“You don’t even know me.” Tony replied. 

“Doesn’t matter to wolves.” Steve didn’t care, not when he was high on bonding pheromones and Tony was right there. 

“Sure as hell matters to men.” 

This was an argument that should happen. Tony was the weirdest wolf that Steve had ever met. Instead he shut him up with a kiss. It was like a stream joining a river, being washed away by the sensation of it, of joining something so much bigger than he was. It was like coming home to his pack, running under the moonlight with Bucky and Peggy.

“I’m apparently already consorting with a Blood Mage, I can’t bring in another werewolf--there would be chaos,” Tony said, but he didn’t let go, holding Steve in an awkward sprawl against his chest. 

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man to let that stop you.” 

Tony quirked a small painful smile at him. 

\--

Tony wasn’t panicking. He was too smart to be panicking. Still, it was near thing. Steve was literally prowling around him, never straying far as they walked through the forest. He was calming and terrifying in equal measure. 

Priorities. 

Find the engine. It could be re-built. Get home, the armour had taken damage in the battle with the wolves, his left leg was moving slower because there was an issue with the joint mechanism. Find some way to appease Fury. 

“Stark.” 

Seriously, how had he not noticed that Natasha was some kind of super ninja mage? It was so obvious. Red hair. Green eyes. Evil. 

“Natasha, I had somehow expected you to leave me here.” He gave her a fake smile. 

“My orders were to protect you- you just had to make it difficult.” She was filthy and bruised and well Tony could agree with that. He’d been hurt before all the fighting, now he was running on nervous energy and determination. 

“You know me, couldn’t resist crash landing in the dangerous werewolf infested forest. It seemed like such a good idea at the time.” 

Natasha glared at him. Steve was standing to their left, silent and watching. It still made Tony nervous, the way his senses seemed to periodically fixate on Steve until he was drowning, overwhelmed by the way his pulse echoed behind Tony’s eyes, or the taste of his scent on the air. It would take everything to pull away from that, something was trying to pull him in and it would be so easy to just give in.

“We’ve missed the audience with the emperor by now.” Tony tilted his head to look up at the canopy of foliage like he could figure out the time that way. 

“We have.” Natasha agreed. “It will be dark soon.” 

“Many spirits run in the forest at night.” Steve rumbled. “The Blood Mage is not welcome at camp, but you and the Elf may come.” 

You would have never seen the way that Natasha stiffened had you not been staring at her face. She nodded sharply. “I can take care of myself.” 

“No.” Tony said, he knew a little something about being ashamed of something you couldn’t change. “They are animals, what if they decide to eat me? I need you.” Steve said something low and irritated under his breath but Tony didn’t care. “Just because of some war that was big and great? The world has moved on, Natasha is hardly about to lead you to war against the Kingdom.” 

Steve’s face was tight and angry, lips pulled back from his teeth aggressively. He looked like an animal wearing a man’s skin. 

“Don’t talk about it like that. You weren’t there.” He bit out. 

“And you were?” Tony snapped back. 

“I was.” 

Well that was an unexpected tension breaker. 

Steve proceeded to tell him a story so fantastic that Tony wouldn’t have believed him if it wasn’t for the stupidly earnest look in Steve’s bright blue eyes. If he was telling the truth it would take some serious magic to freeze someone for that long, and to keep him alive as well. Who could manage that? That was some super serious mojo. 

Well, Steve’s ‘Great Spirit’ certainly had a sense of humour, Tony was only a wolf by the strictest sense of the word while Steve was what? Unstuck in time? What the odd couple they made. 

Would make. 

Not thinking about it. Very carefully not thinking about it. That way madness lies. Madness shaped like wolves and monsters and the things his father told him lurked in the shows under his bed when he was a child. 

While they spoke night had fallen. The eerie silence was broken by Natasha setting a small bush on fire. Tony jumped, gritting his teeth at her while she just quirked her lips at him. 

“Fire to keep the monsters away.” Natasha said slowly. 

“A bit late for that.” Tony muttered. “We’re surrounded, boxed in on all sides.”

He hadn’t meant it quite like that, but even as he said it Hank and his girl materialized out of the woods. Still, it was amazing timing and foreboding enough. 

“Why are you here?” The girl asked. 

“Fell out of the sky.” Tony laughed, “I actually fell out of the sky. Landed in the werewolf forest. That’s it.” _Brilliant._ Of course, he was brilliant, he was a genius. “We’re already here, we’ll find out why the wolves are attacking, stop them, and maybe Fury won’t destroy my life. I mean we’re already here right? They’re here too, it’s like destiny.” 

Tony carefully watched everyone’s reactions. Natasha looked furious for a moment, Tony didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, she might be invested in keeping him alive for now but there was a difference between alive and living. She was Fury’s pawn in the end. 

Steve, Jan and Hank all looked some form of shock, which was harder to tell on Jan and Hank’s wolf forms but it was in the tightness in their shoulders and the rise in Jan’s eyebrows. On Steve it was all in the set of his jaw, which also showed his anger pretty well. 

Steve was all tight ready to spring and Tony shifted his weight to a lighter stance. Oh _big boy_ , he was so ready to go. He could use a little something to work the tension out. It would be a lot easier to hit him than to deal with the electric _thing_ that hung between them trying to seduce him away from rational thought.

“We didn’t attack anyone- going near the human villages means instant exile and we _found_ Scott. He would have never attacked any villages.” Jan snapped at him, words low and snarled. The fur along her brow ridge was standing up. 

“He also wouldn’t have attacked us.” Hank replied. Of course he had attacked them.

“I know that magic,” Natasha said softly after a long considering pause, “but he’s supposed to be dead. The creature reeked of Dr. Doom.” 

“The Blood Mage found in Lord Richards’ court?” Tony mused. He liked Lord Richards. His wife and her brother were as stunning as they were deadly, and Richards himself seemed oblivious to the fact that Tony was a werewolf, even if his mountain of an assistant wouldn’t let Tony forget it. He was also possibly the only person in all of York who was smarter than Tony. 

Once exposed as a blood mage practicing human sacrifice Dr. Doom had taken Sue, Lady Richards, and tried to use her as a shield to escape. The rumour was that she filleted him, from chin to groin. Tony had been a little in love with her ever since. 

“The creature was made of the blackest magic, forbidden arts.” Thor rumbled, joining the conversation and their little huddle around the fire light. “I believe it to be related to the disturbance in the forest.” 

“So, not werewolves attacking villages,” Pietro added, dropping Tony’s sack of parts on the forest floor non-too gently. 

“Nope, if you trust their word anyways.” Tony said fake-cheerfully. “So then, Dr. Doom is somewhere in the forest?” 

“Verily,” Thor rumbled. 

“Then I say we pay him a visit and ask him to kindly stop making monsters that kill people.” Tony said and Pietro shrugged, Natasha was quiet for a long moment. 

“Fury would be pleased with his head.” She said at last. 

“You might even get a promotion out of it, considering you’re going to need it- you’re still fired.” He titled his chin at her and she gave him a tight frown. 

“I will assist, I do not like to see the forest spirits unhappy.” Thor said slowly. “If this Dr. Doom is using the dark arts he must be stopped.” 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Hank said at the same time Jan said, “If Thor’s in we’re in.” They looked at each other for a long moment, silently battling wills. 

Steve stared hard at Tony, “I’ll go where you go.” Like it was that easy to a choice to make. Tony looked away. He was still very carefully not thinking about anything involving bonding and wolves and Steve’s huge blue eyes and clean fresh smell. 

“We’re going. This is our forest and we need to help.” Jan said finally and Hank looked uncomfortable but didn’t argue with her assertion. 

Hank and Jan devolved into wordless little arguments, Jan biting at Hank’s muzzle while he ducked his head. Tony watched them, and they did smell like each other. Not the way that two things that brushed up against each other smelled, like she’d taken the core essence of her scent and mixed it into his. They smelled like each other and still distinct. 

Was that what his body was doing when he breathed too deeply Steve filling the air around him, taking parts of him inside? 

Tony turned away from where Steve was speaking low and fast to Thor, crouching down instead by the bag of parts. He hadn’t had time to look at what was recovered very closely yet. He needed to know which parts held up best under the stress of crashing if he was going to re-build. 

He lost himself in the task, squinting and using the glow from his fingers to look at the minute detail on the surface better. 

“Will you take the armour off?” Steve asked softly. Pietro was patrolling the forest, as was Hank, Tony figured even if Natasha looked like she was sleeping she would somehow still be listening. He’d been hoping Steve had gone to sleep. Thor and Jan were curled together in a way that seemed a little too close, but Hank didn’t seem to notice and Steve didn’t seem to find odd and maybe it was just one of those whacky werewolf things. 

Tony laughed, “No.” Not a chance. 

“You, really don’t trust me?” Steve ticked his head like this was perplexing. He’d stripped down to the tunic and light under armour as if being so underdressed in the forest was nothing to him. Of course he could also turn into a huge bipedal werewolf at whim, so really not so much an exposure thing. 

“I don’t even know you,” Tony said blandly. Steve reacted like Tony hit him. It wasn’t Steve really, Tony didn’t trust easily, nor did he take kindly to a loss of control no matter how chiselled the jaw-line. “To you this is some mystical marriage ceremony, to me this is an attack.” 

Steve was quiet for a long time after that and Tony tried his hardest to lose himself in the parts of the engine again. Only it was a puzzle he’d solved before he could tell exactly where it fractured; and he could fix it with magic, but he wanted a prototype isolated from magic (the Emperor didn’t trust the Circle as far as he could throw them—after one mage revolt brought the kingdom to its knees, no one messed around these days). Again, it would run face first into the problem of being too heavy to fly if he re-enforced it. 

“I’m not going to apologize,” Steve said long after Tony had begun to think he was done speaking. “But I can’t force you to accept me.” There wasn’t anything he could say to that so he just stayed stubbornly silent. “But I can’t leave you either.” 

“I’m not going to stay in the forest you know.” Might as well get that out in the open, wounds that fester and everything potentially necrotic between the two of them. Least of all their relationship problems, quote-unquote. 

“I’ll go where you go.” Again he said it like this was a non-thing like he wasn’t devoting himself suddenly to a stranger. 

There was that earnest face again, like Steve hadn’t lived through the bloodiest parts of the war and watched people could do to each other. Tony looked sideways at him. The fire-light lit everything in bright orange. Tony believed him in a ‘well, shit’ sort of way. 

Tony didn’t pull away when Steve leaned in, his face getting bigger and bigger until it eclipsed the forest. He would have moved but whatever Steve smelled like was flooding his senses until Steve had simply eclipsed the entire world. Tony sort of expected the kiss to be earth-shattering. Maybe it was, but what as a press of lips when all he could hear in his head was the calming rush of blood through Steve’s heart, he could _hear_ the wet catch of Steve’s breath in his mouth. 

Kissing was only a tiny drop in the wide stream of sensations. That was, of course, until Steve licked at his parted lips. Taste exploded, strong enough that Tony wanted to flinch away from it and dive in for more at the same time. Rain water and the sharp sting of frost, leaves and grass and life.

Tony couldn’t help the sound he made, shoving in for more. He wasn’t kissing Steve so much as trying to lick the taste of him right out of his mouth. Steve was gripping his face between his hands, trying to pull Tony closer. 

“Your armour is in the way.” Steve moaned against his lips. 

Tony snapped out of it when Steve’s fingers touched the dented thigh plate, looking for a way to get it off. 

“Stop, no.” Tony hissed, shoving Steve away and pulling his wits around him and fighting against the way heat burned inside his stomach, inside his lungs. He needed something, couldn’t say what but he needed something more. Tony bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. Steve whimpered, tilting his head forward like he wanted more. “No.” Tony said softly, and not nearly as sharply as he meant. 

“Down, boys.” Natasha growled from where she was curled up near the fire, a tiny ball of shadows and red hair. “Sleep.” 

Tony scowled at Steve, then at Natasha for good measure. 

“You heard the lady.” Steve said softly, staring at him with those huge blue eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“Natasha is no lady.” Tony replied tartly, letting each word roll in her direction. 

Tony fumbled for the gear he had dropped and put it back in the sack with the others. Sleep right. He could sleep. Tony didn’t think he could, not with the way he was buzzing. 

Oddly he was wrong. 

\--

“Seriously, the cutest thing I have ever seen.” Jan teased him. Steve tried to scowl but he couldn’t quite manage it. He’d woken up curled around Tony, pressing his face against Tony’s cheek, the only bare skin. “I’m really happy for you.” 

“Thanks,” Steve flushed- this morning he’d put the armour back on because he hoped it might make Tony feel better. Steve would have felt better in his fur, the world was always sharper and more real when he was in his fur. Jan at least understood what this meant. He wondered if Tony ever let himself run around in his wolf form. 

In the morning, while Pietro had been cooking some rabbits that Thor brought back, and both Hank and Thor had come over, pressing their muzzles against his shoulder in wordless happiness. Only Tony didn’t look happy about this development. Steve was beginning to think he didn’t like the forest much with the way he was scowling as they walked. 

Thor was out in front, ranging ahead. He could feel the currents of the forest better than the rest of them and was trying to find the source. 

“I thought Scott had left to find the other packs in the far forests.” Jan said quietly. “He was the runt of his family.” 

“Magic is not something to be played with.” Steve said gravely. “All strong magic comes with a price. Natasha has bonded her soul to a demon, if it ever wins it will take over her body and turn her into an abomination.”

“Without magic, you’d be dead.” Jan replied simply. 

Steve hadn’t given voice to his fears, as if saying things out loud would make it more true. “I think I was supposed to be the price. Zemo was almost dead, I think he meant for someone to find him quickly, only no one came. When you broke into the sanctuary, he must have escaped somehow.” 

“Heavy mojo,” Tony agreed, from up ahead where he was trying hard to look like he wasn’t listening. Jan gave him a small, wicked smile. Steve shook his head with a small smile of his own.

Thor howled, the sound piercing in the daylight and echoing across the forest in Thor’s booming shouts. He’d found something, excitement and bloodlust curling in his howl. Steve’s head snapped up listening to the echo. The only thing he could imagine would make Thor sound that joyful was danger. 

Steve rushed ahead, pulling the shield from his back and getting ready for battle. 

“It’s a bear.” Natasha said, eyes filmy black with the demon that raged against captivity inside of her. The creature looked like the last one they fought; only it towered up with the trees huge and all-consuming. 

“Same plan as last time?” Tony shouted. Jan jumped at it.

Same plan it was. 

Of course it didn’t work so well the second time, probably because the thing was monstrous. It eventually went down between Steve and Thor, pinning it to the ground while Tony, landed out of nowhere on its head, sword driven into the back of its neck and a mumbled ‘needs a sword in the face.’ 

Steve stared at the blank face plate where Tony’s eyes should be. Pride welled fierce in his chest. The first kill with the pack was symbolic of their fledgling bond. 

“Good job,” He managed around the dryness in his throat. He meant it - during the fight he kept trying to keep Tony away from the creature; he had been moving slower all day and favourite his right side and Steve didn’t want him hurt. Tony had been having none of that, rushing the thing like he had a death wish. 

“Thanks? Let’s keep moving; with luck, this thing was a guard.” 

“Abominations,” Natasha spit. 

Pietro scowled at it fiercely. There was a story there; the Elf wasn’t a mage but clearly shared their sympathies.

Tony smelled like a wolf, but he didn’t move like a wolf or act like a wolf. Steve wondered how he would look in his animal form (would he be dark like his hair?), or even what he looked like under all the armour. He watched Tony move, too loud and too obvious to be a hunter. Maybe when they found this Dr. Doom character Tony would take him back to his home and they could finish the bond. Tony had to realize that Steve wasn’t able to leave him, he would follow him back to the city and beyond if the need arose. 

The odd little group picked up the pace, Thor was certain that they were getting closer to the anomaly, pushing himself as he ran. 

Dr. Doom’s house was huge, a rambling wooden affair. As they closed in on the grounds he could smell traces of blood and rot on the air. It was soaked into the very earth, pungent enough to blur all the other scents. Even the sunlight didn’t want to touch it, the light only highlighting the jagged edges of broken wood panelling and gutted windows. The double doors in front hung open like a gaping mouth.

“He’s in there?” 

“Something is around here,” Thor growled low in his throat. 

“What should we do?” Jan looked to Steve, as did Thor, Steve looked at Tony. 

“We’ve got to cover the whole place.” Tony stared hard at it, or Steve assumed he was it was impossible to tell much from the armours blank facade. “Split up and work inwards. Hank and Jan, inside left, Natasha and Thor, right side. Pietro cover the front and be ready to react--you’re the fastest. Steve and I will circle around to the back.”

“You heard him.” Steve said, because Jan was getting ready to respond eyebrows drawn together in a scowl. 

“Yes.” She relented. 

“Be careful,” Hank warned, “this place smells evil.” A lot like death and bad intentions. 

Steve took the left side, circling around where the forest was pushing back against the land that had been cleared to build the house. Bushes and saplings were all but pressed against the walls, greedy to reunite with their dead. 

There was nothing interesting, more blank windows, some with glass most without. He half expected more abominations to come reaching out of the darkness for him bring him back to pain and ice. Every sense was tingling, screaming that something wasn’t right. Where it had been a faint impression before he could feel the forest’s anger now, trees screaming completely silently, almost overwhelming. 

The side opened into a back garden almost as large as the house itself. The trees were kept at bay by stone walls, ivy and moss slowly creeping across the stone. Details that he had to fixate on lest he stare at the mess that was at the centre it all. Rot was pungent in the air, the sticky sweet smell of bad meat clogged the inside of his nose, seeping into his lungs until he could almost taste it. 

Body parts were strewn around like discarded toys, arms here a leg there. No heads, impossible t tell how many people everything was covered in a sticky sheen of drying gore that made it impossible to differentiate one hunk of flesh from the next. 

Steve could only stare in horror. At the epicentre of the mess was a man in a long green cloak. “I wasn’t expecting guests,” He said, voice muffled behind a metal mask. “Still, you will make a fine addition to my army.” From inside the house howls began to rise, Hank followed by Thor. “Your friends won’t be so lucky. They will be torn limb from limb by my pets.” 

“Victor, how are the burns?” Tony stood on the other corner, and his voice carried sharp and obscenely cheerful across. “The kingdom thinks you’re dead. You never write.” 

“Lord Stark, consorting with wild wolves now? Everyone knew you’d snap one day.” 

“It appears so. And what have you been doing out here all alone in the forest all these years? It doesn’t look like you’ve taken up needle point.” 

“I’m re-kindling the war, what does it look like I’m doing?” Steve grit his teeth snapping a growl in his throat. War helped no one in the long run. “Entire villages could go missing before and everyone would just blame it on the wolves. You should thank me-- I’m giving you back your teeth.” 

“Don’t hold your breath.” Tony replied easily. 

Steve didn’t know if he should laugh or not- it was sort of cruel to taunt your enemy and if it wasn’t for the muffled skip of Tony’s heart he would think he was every bit as blasé as he was pretending to be. 

Inexplicably and completely inappropriately, Steve was charmed. 

The flare of magic was so strong and sudden it made the air in his lungs burn and he threw himself to the side on instinct just before lightening crashed to the ground, concussive shock hitting exposed the exposed skin of his face. Steve rolled to his feet holding the shield up in a protective stance. The pale grass where he had been standing was smouldering in a vivid blast radius. 

“Now that wasn’t very nice.” Tony said, his palms together, everything flaring blue for a moment as he called on the mix of force and lightening that Steve was beginning to realize was his go-to attack. 

Steve threw back his head and howled, a wordless vocalization of ‘danger’ and ‘be careful’. He didn’t have time to stop and listen for a response Dr. Doom had summoned a large spider with a flick of his fingers and together they were rushing Tony. 

Steve jumped and landed on the spider as it scuttled, shoving it into the ground as Tony crashed into Doom with the sound of metal hitting metal ringing loud in the air. The spider was at least up to his thighs, distended body covered in a thick almost-fur, the longer hairs tickling his knees as he tried to grapple it to the ground. It screamed, trying to twist its legs back to throw him off. Steve grabbed it around the joints of the legs, digging his fingers in to the cuticle and letting his claws grow. 

It had taken him years to master this, trapping himself half-way between states. The open helmet allowed his muzzle to grow out and the loose fit of his armour accounted for the changing angles of joints. He hadn’t wanted to do this, just the remembered agony of waking up, of thinking he was trapped between states forever. 

Still, he was faster this way, stronger. He needed the advantage. 

Steve dug his claws into the spider’s joints, pushing through the hardened skin and into the stickiness inside. It burned under his claws, mild acid trying to eat away at his skin while it screeched, mouth parts clacking together desperately. He couldn’t hold on any longer, hands screaming with pain. Steve rode the next buck, letting it toss him off. He rolled through the grass, already looking for the shield he dropped. 

It caught the sun and shone dull just off to his left. 

“Move,” Tony yelled and Steve reacted to the command before he could think about it, pushing himself backwards as a sword spun through the air, slicing past where he had been and embedded in the wall with enough force to sink the blade in deep.

Tony was without weapon now, relying on his magic. Steve couldn’t afford to keep an eye on him, the spider spit something globby and white at him, Steve dodged but caught the end of it on his boot. All his forward momentum stopped, pulling him back like a rubber band and Steve pin-wheeled for a long breathless moment, just barely holding onto the edge of balance before he hit the ground hard. All the air whooshed out of him and he didn’t have the time to get it back because while he’d been startled by the webbing that stuck him to the ground. The spider limped as fast as its damaged joints could pull it, and jumped on top of him. 

Steve snarled and snapped his teeth back at it, pulling at the one arm that wasn’t pinned next to his body and hitting it hard right in the mass of eyes. It spit all over his throat, the same mildly stinging acid and Steve shouted, pain sizzling fast and bright. Everything went pale blue for a moment, wrapping around the rounded body of the spider and lifting it high off Steve’s chest. His eyes burned and watered from the fumes of the acid, but he watched it’s legs twitch and flail looking for a purchase where there was nothing but magic. 

It cut off suddenly, the sound of metal hitting something solid ringing too loud, Steve rocked himself forward, pushing the webbing sticking his feet to the ground the other way so that the spider landed stunned on the ground, legs curling protectively over its stomach. Not that it helped, Steve didn’t have his shield, but he had claws. He tore at its stomach, vicious with cold intent even as its blood bit his hands raw. 

Tony was down, crumpled against the wall where Doom had thrown him while he’d been distracted lifting the spider off of Steve, and Steve was going to tear them all apart and _then Tony for being such a massive idiot_. 

Steve pulled hard until his ankle hurt with the strain he was putting on it, shoving his claws into the webbing until it gave. He jumped, rolling over the steaming body of the spider to where his shield was. Tony was stirring instead of playing dead and Dr. Doom was standing over him, face impossible to read behind his metal mask, but the hand raised was an obvious sign. 

Heart in his throat, Steve threw the shield even as he was moving. He’d never prayed his aim was true before, always just knew the path of his shield like he knew his own hands but in that moment he prayed. Hoped it would be fast enough, straight enough. It flew just past Doom startling him into turning, hit the wall hard enough for the sound to be audible like the beat of a gong and bounced perfectly so that it hit him right in the centre of his back shoving him forward with the force of it. 

Steve was going to follow through but Pietro literally melted out of thin air, mid-way from a jump from the top of the wall Steve had to assume. 

He landed soundlessly on Doom’s back teeth bared and didn’t hesitate to drive his knife down, going for a kill shot. Just as the knife was going to hit its mark Dr. Doom exploded with energy. Pietro’s aim would have been true, inside it sank into the meat of his shoulder instead of straight through his heart. 

Pietro jumped off just as Tony hit him with another blast, this one was all force and it threw Dr. Doom half way across the yard. 

“Give it up,” Tony called out, getting to his feet. The suit was dented and Steve could smell fresh blood. 

“I am a master of the dark arts,” Dr. Doom boomed, raising his arms into the air and calling a misty white wind to his palms. Steve couldn’t tell what it was made of but it made his blood shiver cold. He’d had enough of earth shattering magic to last a life-time. 

Flames wrapped around it, racing down invisible lines to his outstretched arms. 

Natasha was standing in one of the blown out windows, arms out and haloed in demon-fire. “Victor,” she said, voice soft and somehow echoing across the garden. “Those are forbidden spells for a reason.” 

“Magic cannot be limited, cannot be contained,” he replied, widening his stance, the white mist pushing back against the fire. The whole thing twisted in the air, hissing and spitting and crackling as they fought for control of it. 

The doors burst open and Jan came flying through, hunched over to run on all four legs for maximum speed, Hank was right on her tail. 

“This is not the last of me you will see,” Dr. Doom proclaimed before the white mist vanished. He turned and flew, vaulting over the wall, green cape trailing behind him. Steve would have followed, but Thor roared, coming tumbling out with one of those dark shadow creatures. 

Four more followed the tussle through the broken doorway. Steve bared his teeth at them, feeling the skin of the acid burns stretch and ache. 

“Sorry, we brought the fun with us.” Jan panted. Hank was covered in shallow gashes and he was breathing hard. 

“Dr. Doom is going to get away,” Pietro said sharply, but his knives were raised, held even with the enemy. 

“Do what you want.” Tony replied, kicking the edge of Steve’s shield so it flipped up into his hands. He tossed it towards Steve almost carelessly and Steve caught it by the rim as it spin end over end through the air. Pietro shrugged absently. 

“Might as well kill these.” 

Natasha crawled down the wall, sliding along the cracks until she dropped, completing the loose circle they had formed around the creatures. She did this wordlessly, already burning and ready to fight. Thor pulled himself to his feet standing huge in the middle of their circle. “The abominations will pay in blood.” 

\--

Tony pretended to listen to Fury. He was good at that, looking an acceptable mix between bland and interested because if Tony treated people like a game, he could win everything it kept life with that sharp edge of interest, after all if it was a game he could win. 

Fury had arrived at his house shortly after they crashed through the door in a mess of leaves and mud. Probably because of the procession they made through the main street. Somewhere along the way back Tony had found his sack again, and dragged it all the way back with grim determination. He was obviously limping now. Natasha was scruffy, hair devolved into a bird’s nest and face covered in soot and dirt. Pietro didn’t look any better off- scowling at people and stomping his feet loudly with each step. Steve was still all red from the burns and covered in spider-goo and blood. 

Pepper had put up a valiant fight but Tony had agreed to speak with Fury. 

Tony Stark was a brilliant man, and he was well aware that the armour was half as much psychological defence as it was physical defence. He was a wolf, he could heal faster than humans could. Short of decapitation, little was going to stop him but the armour made him feel safe. 

“You missed the meeting,” Fury started. He was sitting in Tony’s sitting room sipping from a cup of tea Jarvis must have brought for him. 

“There was a minor glitch,” Tony said, tipping his head like they were talking about the rain and not the fact that his prototype blew up landing them in the woods and he was sort-of-married to a werewolf time-traveller now. One problem at a time. “You know what? You should probably ask Natasha about that, rumour is you two are tight.” 

“Oh?” Fury’s mouth tightened, it had to sting to have his little inside lady exposed for what she was (and yes, she’d saved Tony’s life a number of times but that was what he paid her to do, that and balance the accounts with Pepper so he was going to overlook that for a little). 

“The prototype isn’t going to be ready again, not for another two months.” Tony said firmly. 

“You don’t have that kind of time.” 

“I do. The prototype is going to be ready in two months. Because we _found_ the werewolves, talked to them, and solved everything without rekindling a war. No one else has to die.” 

“And what did you say to make them stop?” 

“It wasn’t them, it was Dr. Doom’s abomination experiments.” _Obviously._

Fury simply looked at him, staring like he could see through him, “Victor Doom is dead.” 

“Not so much these days.” 

Fury scowled at him but Tony couldn’t be bothered to care, he was tired and sore and filthy. Under the suit it felt grimy and thick with sweat and the heat of bruises. He had to admit it was a slightly ludicrous story, and he left the bit out about being mated to Steve because what he didn’t need was another public vulnerability. 

Tony wrapped the narrative up succinctly. “And then I came home, and I would really like a bath.” 

“One month Stark.” Fury rolled his shoulders with a sharp smile that said that Tony may have won this battle but neither of them would ever concede the war. “It’s good to see you didn’t die in a burning ball of fire.” 

“Right back at you.” 

Tony wasn’t going to waste any more time. 

Well except for Steve. Tony wasn’t sure if he went in the time wasting category. Certainly not, not when Tony was so tired and Steve smelled so good. Even under the slightly rancid scent of old sweat and blood Steve smelled amazing. Thick against Tony’s tongue. 

“You’re doing that thing again.” 

“What thing?” Steve murmured. He was down to a loose tunic stained with unidentified splotches looking decidedly out of place in Tony’s chic minimalist house. Had his shoulders always been that broad and his waist always that narrow? Tony let his gaze flow up across the strong lines of his legs, back up to his face. 

“That thing where you’re so,” pause for Tony to find a word and give up the search, “there and it’s hard to focus on other things.” 

“That’s not me, that’s you.” Steve rumbled. He wanted to protest that, it couldn’t be him when this was something he never asked for. Something he didn’t need. Wanted to protest that he didn’t want this, not really. But it was getting so hard to keep fighting it constantly. 

Tony was a little breathless, like Steve was making a home in his lungs, that smell of him filling up all the space and Tony couldn’t find it in him to miss it. Oh later he would be furious that this _thing_ was taking his control. Right now Steve’s hand was curving over the still-dented hip of the armour. 

“I was about to go clean off.” Tony grinned at him. “Come with me?” If he was stuck with Steve he could at least be smart enough to take advantage of the fringe benefits. They could fight about it tomorrow. In fact Tony was going to have Pepper pencil it into his diary. After lunch, negotiate with Steve. 

Steve’s fingers tightened, barely a pressure pulling Tony closer, his cheeks flushing fetchingly. “I’ve wanted to get you out of that armour.” 

“Now is your chance.” 

Jarvis. Jarvis was a miracle. The bath was steaming faintly the waters swirling with the faintly scented oils that Tony liked (just because the city stank of shit and humanity didn’t mean that Tony had too). 

“How does it work?” Steve sprawled across the tiled floor watching him, his limbs were in a lazy sprawl but his eyes were focused and intent on Tony. “I’ve never seen anything like your armour before.” 

“Not surprising, you’re not exactly up to date on current affairs. Of course no one has armour like mine either so it wouldn’t make a difference. I made the alloys myself nothing like it exists in all of York. The design is lighter than the usual mail too, specified to my magic specifically. It would take too long to explain the mechanics behind the whole thing.”

“I’m suitably impressed.” Steve said slowly and later Tony would be irritated that he wasn’t making the face people normally did when they beheld the power and grace of his armour. The fasteners were coated with the grime of their jaunt through the woods and his fingers slipped over them. He wasn’t as graceful as he could have been, exhausted and barely standing. Still, Tony Stark was a sight to behold when he was getting undressed. 

It was made of many smaller pieces, it kept the tensile strength high and the weight low. Tony just normally needed a certain amount of time to get into it. 

“Looks complicated.” Steve’s eyes were thick and dark as if just this was enough to get him hot. 

“Unimaginably so.” Tony replied easily. The shoulder guards buckled under his arms, catches just hidden by the lines of his breast plate. He twisted around lifting his arm so he could snag both the catches, wiggling he managed to unlatch it, after the second one it was easier. The breastplate hid most of the other straps, and the shoulder guards held the breast plate in place. 

Tony peeled off the thin under-armour, it would need to be burned. He couldn’t even tell by looking what was bruise, soot or mud his skin mottled here and there. 

“You going to get in with me?” Tony said. His skin was heating up again and Steve’s hands on him would feel even better. 

“Can I wash you?” 

Tony shrugged. He wasn’t ready to fight this whole bonded thing right now, tomorrow yes because _things don’t happen easy_ not if they mean something.

Tony slid into the bath with a hiss while Steve kneeled over the edge watching him. Curious fingers touched his shoulder rubbing until the soot washed away leaving just his pale skin. The hot water felt like a dream, and Steve was pressing in close making a needy noise in his throat. He was half over the edge getting his shirt all damp as he pressed his mouth against Tony’s. He wasn’t doing a very good job of washing. 

It was like in the woods all over again, every sense slowly spiralling inward until everything was obliterated, just gone and replaced by the need to try and lick Steve everywhere. They were making a mess of the floor, Tony pushing up against Steve water spilling over the edge as Steve tried to wrestle him closer. 

“Fuck.” Tony whispered, biting at Steve’s mouth. “How is this happening?” 

“You want it.” Steve kissed the corner of his mouth, and then a sloppy line across his cheek, tracing the line of his beard with his nose. “The wolf wants it.” 

Tony was having trouble arguing with that. 

He found a towel, and only because Steve wouldn’t let him leave the bathing chamber without it. Tony wrapped himself in the linen loosely, he was already more interested in the way that Steve’s hands could fit around his hips. There were a million uses for a man with hands like that, and not all of them involved using him as a prop for welding (a _few_ of them did). 

So many things to think about later, the fact that they looked like idiots stumbling down the hall, refusing to let go longer than needed and getting tangled in ways ruthless hunters really shouldn’t be. Tony was soaked, and Steve was all damp, pulling him closer, harder, needing more. He bit off words that made no sense against Tony’s neck. Steve’s back hit a wall, and Tony used that to pin him there with hands wrapped around his elbows. Tony nibbled on the edge of his exposed shoulder, nosing aside his shirt and Steve’s skin tasted just like it smelled. He was faintly disturbed about the urge to just _roll in it_. 

“Your house it too big.” Steve mumbled, arching his neck so that Tony could hide his whole face there and just breathe. 

“Over-compensating.” Tony mumbled around a little smile. 

They were kissing again before he could make a proper joke out of it, Steve’s tongue pressing into his mouth and Tony let him take both of their weight. Steve was built all over, one long line of solid muscle, _god, why hadn’t that been Tony’s thing before?_ It was hot, amazingly so. He couldn’t stop wiggling, rubbing himself against his hip like an over-eager teen and delighting in the way that Steve’s dick was pressing into his stomach. 

“Seems fine to me.” 

“Mm?” 

Steve’s hands swept down the line of his back, rough against the smoother skin there. Tony yelped when Steve managed to dislodge the towel, clutching at it and hitting Tony with his shoulder which caused him to stumble, pulling on the towel more. 

Tony tried not to laugh, but it was ridiculous. Steve just gave him a sheepish little grin. “Probably find somewhere to lie down.” 

“I’ve got a bed. It’s great.” Tony agreed shamelessly. 

Steve moaned wordlessly and Tony figured now would be a good time to lead the charge. 

Tony’s bedroom was cavernous and sparse, a place to rest his eyes between being the madcap sessions of invention and the slick public life of being a Lord of the house Stark. Now it was a place to shove Steve down hard on the bed. He kicked the towel away, Steve’s hands felt better on his skin, catching at his nape where it was still damp, the other resting scandalously low on his back. 

“You should wear less.” Tony mumbled, dragging his chest along the rough scrape of Steve’s clothes. He did it again, moaning against Steve’s mouth. 

“Need to get off me first.” That would be logical but Tony didn’t want to move, he could rub his cock against the smooth stretch of Steve where his shirt had ridden up. He could feel the slick catch of dry skin against the slick cockhead each a tiny jolt of pleasure. 

Everything went sideways, he wasn’t entirely sure how it happened only that one moment he’d been on top of Steve and more than willing to rut against his stomach and leave him a sticky mess. Steve had him on his back, blinking up at him and the sudden 180 that the world decided on. Tony huffed out a hollow laugh. _Christ_. 

Steve reared back, pulling his shirt over his head and letting it drop off the edge of the bed. Tony touched his abs a little reverently; people just weren’t made that way. Tony wasn’t even sure wolves were built that way or if it was something in the water each muscle was shaded in sharp relief and perfect. Steve let him touch, chin resting against his chest and just watching Tony watch Steve. The trousers did little to hide the sharp rise of his cock and Tony palmed the weight of it, feeling out the edges with his fingers and feeling his mouth flood with saliva. 

“Come on.” 

Steve needed to scramble off of him for a moment to tangle with the ties holding his trousers on. Tony used the moment to roll off the bed. He had some, there. The vial of oil was slick and would be perfect because Tony desperately wanted. 

“You’re perfect.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but Steve really was, strong thighs a tight narrow waist and dick curving towards his stomach as if in invitation. Steve made a soft embarrassed sound, crawling towards Tony. 

Tony met him half way, and he had to concede that Steve had a point this was so much better now that he was rubbing shamelessly skin against skin. The feeling was heady, cloying. Tony kissed Steve, barely stopping to breathe as Steve tried to press him into the bed all weight and bulk. “Want to fuck me?” Tony mumbled into the kiss, “or I could do you.” Never pass up a good time. 

“Yes.” Steve hissed, drawing out the sibilant so that it tickled against Tony’s mouth. Tony wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, pulling him in closer as to obliterate the last sliver of space between them. 

“Here.” Tony opened the vial and let the oil spill thick all over his hands. He tangled their fingers together getting Steve’s hand all wet and messy. 

The first press of a wet finger made his breath catch. Steve didn’t waste time, pushing Tony to his limits like he knew exactly where they were, as if he was aiming for that perfect spot where the burn of being stretched made everything go sharp and perfect. Tony sobbed something against Steve’s shoulder, biting his teeth in on instinct. 

Steve swore a fervent oath, face flushed and mouth swollen and red from Tony’s less than gentle kisses. Tony grabbed at Steve’s dick getting it nice and slick while Steve’s eyes went unfocused, clumsy fingers pushing sharp and deep inside and Tony moaned kicking Steve in the back at the sudden stab of pleasure. 

It was almost a game, Steve pushed another finger inside of him and Tony would moan, rolling Steve’s balls between his fingers. Desperately trying to one-up each other at every turn and resulting only in pushing each other faster and harder. 

“Now.” Nownownownow. Tony chanted under his breath digging his fingers into Steve’s shoulders. 

“Yeah, okay. Good. Roll over.” 

Tony rolled onto his front lifting himself onto his hands and knees, head between his forearms. Steve’s hands swept across his sides, down to where he was already slick and more than ready, Tony mumbling empty threats against the sheets if he didn’t do something _now_. Steve’s thumb pressed against the rim, sinking inside him just a little and Tony snarled wordlessly. 

“Fuck you.” 

Steve just made a sound caught somewhere between a laugh and a huff. Then he was pushing inside and Tony’s whole world was rearranging, everything falling away but the stretch of his ass around Steve’s cock and the prevailing smell of sex in the air. In and in, _fuck_ , Tony could feel the thickness of it with each breath trying to shatter him apart. Steve’s chest pressed against his back where he could feel the thunder of his heart and the rasp of his breathing like Steve was barely holding himself together too. 

Then Steve was moving, one hand curled around the inside of his thigh to pull him back into it and the other on his hip to hold him steady and Tony was going to come apart. The thick drag out and the shove back in. He whined, just breathing through it. It seemed impossible to be fucked like this, so perfect that Tony could only make wordless pleas for more, harder, so greedy for the slick push. 

Steve wasn’t gentle with him (Tony might have hurt him if he was), setting a fast and almost brutal pace. Tony arched his back and tried to snap his hips back into it. Steve wrapped a hand, just a shade too dry, around his dick and Tony was gone, humping into it and back on Steve’s cock. He moaned loudly into the sheets. 

He came so hard that it made everything blank for a moment, one long daze stretch of time spreading out endlessly until it snapped like a rope pulled too taut. Steve was still fucking him, making him shiver with the shock of it drawing out each wave of pleasure as he shot all over the sheets groaning deep and wordlessly. 

Steve just held him up when Tony’s knees left like rubber, holding him right where he wanted him, nails biting into his skin. Tony whined, trying to push back against the hold to help but he felt wrung out and still floating on the aftermath of a really good orgasm. Steve was making these amazing little sounds, chewed off words and half growls. 

He pushed in deep holding there; deep enough that Tony moaned, feeling it echo inside. Steve held him steady, moaning shamelessly, and it seemed to go on and on, little jerks of his hips. 

Tony began to feel tight, hot and stretched and he started. “What-“ He tried to pull away but Steve snarled, pushed him down into the bed and pinned him down with his weight while Tony struggled. “What the hell?” 

“It’s normal.” Steve said between grit teeth against Tony’s hair. 

He was so full he ached with it, it felt like Steve was getting bigger, stretching out his ass with his dick. “Not fucking normal.” Tony hissed, pressing his eyes closed tight. He breathed shallow through it and it felt so _weirdgoodmoreyesno_ fuck. 

“It’s part of bonding, now please be quiet.” Steve was nosing at the back of his neck panting quick and high making these little whining sounds. 

Tony pushed his face into the bedding and just breathed until he didn’t feel like he was going to shatter any more. He still felt _so full_ , but he was also Tony Stark so he curled his toes into the bedding and carefully tightened up around it. Like fireworks going off behind his eyes. Steve let out a pathetic almost-tortured sound. Tony did it again and Steve was digging his teeth into the meat of Tony’s shoulder shivering and whining. 

“Tony.” He whimpered and Tony smirked to himself. 

They stayed like that, pressed together so close it seemed impossible they would ever separate again. 

Eventually Steve was able to calm down enough that they could move and Tony winced as he rolled onto his side. He was going to need another bath; his thighs were a slick mess he was so sloppy covered in oil and Steve’s come. Steve was going to have to carry him back to the bath. He mumbled as much and Steve pressed a kiss against his temple. “Still not going to apologize.” 

“I don’t want you to apologize, I want you to clean up your mess.” Tony huffed. 

Steve pushed a finger inside him loose and sloppy- Tony groaned trying to resist the urge to spread his legs like a whore. It sparked along his nervous system hitting him in the stomach. 

“Fuck.” Tony breathed and Steve drew with a smug little smile. 

Well, he might not like it, but he could certainly get used to it. 

\--

Steve ran through the woods, fast and hard pushing his body until his lungs burned and all the muscles in his legs ached. It felt good to be free. 

Steve threw back his head and howled. It carried far out into the dusk. He knew the neighbours could probably hear it carried on the wind. It scared them and Steve couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about it. He was beginning to see why Tony was the way he was, everyone was so scared all the time. So fragile and human, Steve spent a lot of time just trying to be nice enough to make up for the fact that he was a werewolf. 

Over the forest another voice answered him, the deep rumbling howl of Thor. Steve smiled to himself. 

He liked Tony’s new home. It was a sprawling estate right on the edge of Manhattan almost half eaten by the East River forest where Steve could run and Tony could hide in his basement building dreams out of magic and metal. 

“Steven it is good to see you well.” Thor’s golden fur glowed in the dying daylight. 

“How is everything?” Hank had come to see him once looking nervous about being that close to so many people. It was taboo in the village but Thor was a creature from a far flung place and Steve was a man out of place (he knew his place now and if Tony wouldn’t move to the forest well at least he moved the forest to Steve).

“Troubled.” Thor frowned. “I was investigating the ruins where you were discovered, there were traces of new magic, dark magic.” 

Steve frowned. He’d been half expecting something like this for some time now. 

“My brother is troubled and I believe he has found this Zemo of yours, I fear that no good can come of this.” Thor stared at a tree looking impossibly sad for a moment. 

Steve smiled sharply. He had some unfinished business with Zemo. 

“I’ll get Tony, we’ll meet you at the ruins?” 

“I knew we could count on you Steven, Jan and Hank are already there.” Thor clapped him on the shoulder.


End file.
